


across the blades

by blue--phantom (twilightscribe)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Adrenaline, Deepthroating, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, One Shot, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightscribe/pseuds/blue--phantom
Summary: In which Sid misses the adrenalin of a fight and Hien is more than happy to oblige him.Written for day 3 of 2018's Kinktober.





	across the blades

He misses the clash of steel, the thrill of adrenalin in his veins, the scent of blood and feeling of his blade cleaving through armour and flesh.

There’s little to be done, reconstruction is far more important than skill in battle. But, as Sid knows, the imperials are not likely to lay quiet and dormant for long – but there are only so many uneventful patrols that he can take before the need to somehow be _useful_ rears its ugly head. Sid fears that he might become rusty from lack of use.

It’s the yearning for a challenge, for a clash of steel, that has him stalking the halls of the Kienkan.

Given the hour, Sid knows that his target has likely just finished meetings for the day. He rounds a corner sharply and yes, there he is.

Hien’s back is to him. His head cocked to the side, listening to something that Yugiri is saying. And although no one would dare raise even hand against him here, in his home, his blade is still an ever familiar presence at his side.

 _Good_.

Though his back is to him, Sid is well-aware that Hien knows he’s there. He crosses his arms, watches as Hien’s advisors take their leave, and waits for Yugiri to finish. It doesn’t take long before she, too, leaves, and then it’s only the two of them.

Hien turns to him and approaches, stopping a few ilms away. He has to tip his head back to meet Sid’s eyes.

“Spar with me,” Sid says.

And Hien does not disappoint. He grins at Sid and nods, then claps him on the shoulder and goes, “Come, then.”

There’s a small area within the Kienkan that’s used as a sparring and training area. At this time of day, however, it’s deserted, leaving Sid and Hien as the only occupants. With no audience, Sid need not worry about the reactions should he go all out. Not that he cares.

With just the two of them, they forego both the wooden blades and the blunted practice ones. Live steel will give him the thrill that he craves, add an edge of danger to their spar that has been lacking from his life of late.

Arikane would disapprove, but Arikane isn’t here.

Nothing makes Sid feel more alive than the moment that his blade crosses with Hien’s. He grins, turns, and launches a kick at Hien’s side that sends him skidding across the ground of the arena.

And Hien’s grinning, too.

This is a thing that they share – simply the two of them. Their blades crossing in a deadly dance, though neither would ever land a killing blow on the other, as they come together and apart, again and again. Sparks fly as their blades meet, the sound of metal on metal ringing in his ears with the singing of the fever of battle in his blood.

Time seems to come to a standstill as they cross blades. And Hien laughs and he smirks, and all that crosses his mind is that _this is how it should be_.

The two of them are equally matched, though their styles disparately dissimilar. Hien fights in the style of his ancestors, a samurai of Doma; while Sid fights in the manner of a dark knight, the dark arts coming to him as easily as breathing.

Exhaustion eventually begins to bleed in. Sid lands a blow to Hien’s face that sends him skidding back, but Hien repays him with a glancing kick to his side that will bruise badly. But the two of them continue, heedless of the scolding the both of them know will come when they return to their room, bruised, sweaty, and bleeding.

They needed this.

Hien’s blade is cold and razor sharp against the delicate skin of his throat. Cold steel a hairsbreadth from the skin. His own greatsword is level with Hien’s neck, one slip and he would easily take his head from his shoulders.

He’s breathing heavily, the thrill of a good fight still humming through his veins.

Hien’s grinning back at him, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat on his brow.

If asked who made the first move, Sid would not be able to answer. But, ultimately, the answer is unimportant.

Hien’s mouth is warm and firm against his. And Sid tangles his hand in the hair that’s come loose, cupping his head to a better angle and if it were possible, he’s quite certain that he would melt. Rielle teases him that he’s gone soft, but that has never mattered to him. Especially not now, when he has Hien’s tongue in his mouth and can taste the sweat and dirt from their fight.

Pulling apart, they’re both breathing heavily and Sid can’t help but smile.

“Bed?” Hien asks.

Sid nods.

Making their way back inside, back to their room, the two of them could easily be mistaken for a pair of giggling, gangly young lovers sneaking back home after a night of semi-awkward intimacy. The two of them are also impatient – no surprises there – and leave a trail of their armour and clothes behind them when they reach the inner chambers of the Kienkan.

He hisses when Hien presses a hand to his side. But Sid silences any apology that he might make with his mouth, and the two of them fall to the bed in a mess of limbs and there’s laughter on Hien’s lips that Sid swallows with his mouth.

It’s different without Arikane there to soften the rough edges. There’s teeth and bruises and the thrill of barely contained violence – he catches Hien’s bottom lip with his teeth and tugs, iron and salt on his tongue. It goes straight to his groin.

And Hien’s hands are rough, callused from years of swordplay, and just a smidge clumsy as he closes one around Sid’s cock. But then his hand tightens, his thumb strokes across the head, and it doesn’t matter to Sid one bit.

There’s a groan lodged in his throat and Sid rolls his hips to follow Hien’s hand. He gives Hien a sharp look at the chuckle he feels against his lips, but then decides that catching Hien’s lips in another kiss is a much better use of his time.

His hips stutter in time to Hien’s strokes of his dick; he’s too close to the edge, been mostly hard since the first clash of their blades in the practice yard. It doesn’t take too long until he’s spilling, coming with a growl that could charitably be mistaken for Hien’s name as he bites down on his bare shoulder.

That strange, post-coital clarity settles over him – not to mention that odd drive of repaying the favour, because Hien’s still hard against his hip – and Sid sets to work.

Hien hisses when he kisses the bite he left – it’s going to be a very visible, dark bruise with the imprint of his teeth unless Arikane does something about it (unlikely, Arikane is more likely to roll his eyes and tell Hien to deal with it). And then lets out a breath like he’s been punched in the gut when Sid’s mouth presses against the side of his cock.

“Not that I have reason to complain,” Hien says, voice breathless. “But might I ask what brought this on?”

Sid hums thoughtfully, and answers simply, “I was restless.”

The laugh catches in Hien’s chest, turning to a groan as Sid swallows his cock down to the root. He peeks up – a little awkward, his hair is perpetually in his face – and watches with thinly veiled curiosity as he works Hien with his mouth.

It always strikes him as quite strange, how… peaceful Hien looks when lost in pleasure. The near-constant furrow between his brows vanishes; true, he will bite his lip now and then, a stifled noise in his throat, but there’s no sign of tension in his face. Sid likes it quite a bit and he flushes a little when he admits that, even if only to himself.

But he does not linger on the thought for long. Mostly because Hien’s hips are twitching slightly as he works, precum salty on his tongue and _yes_ that means he’s _close_.

He works Hien with his throat and tongue, pulling back till he can swirl his tongue about the tip, then taking it back to the root once more. Though Hien’s restraint is to be admired, it can only go so far and Sid makes full use of his heavier build to pin his hips to the futon as he works.

Hien makes a strangled noise as he comes – rather as though his orgasm is being ripped from him. His back arches – and Sid is always amazed at how flexible both Hien and Arikane are – at what has to be an uncomfortable angle. For several long moments, he remains suspended like that before he collapses onto the futon in a mess of limbs – trying to reach down to Sid and awkwardly smacking his forehead before managing to run his hands through his hair.

Sid suckles the remnants of Hien’s orgasm from his cock, which results in a very delightful hissing noise from Hien – who also gently swats him when it edges on being too much. But Sid lets himself be pulled up and away, licking his lips and Hien groans at the sight.

“If I’m to be honest,” Hien says. “You are going to be the death of me, one day.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Words:** 1596 words  
>  **Prompt:** Knife Play
> 
> Alright, so I know that Kinktober is long over, but I never actually _finished_ the challenge and you know what? _I damn well want to_. So here we are: I dug out what I started for the third day, dusted it off, and got my ass in gear to finish it, since I'm, like, sailing this ship alone at the moment. Also, I'm aware that this isn't _really_ knife play, but it's a play on that and it's the spirit that counts, right? ~~Sorry, none of the prompts appealed to me and this is all I've got for you.~~


End file.
